[Here's a picture of her sleeping halfway up the concrete stairs outside of our apartment with a half-eaten sucker.]Jessica also had this thing about taking baths all the time, and I, in all my baby-goodness, simply liked being naked. No bath had to be involved so long as there was nudity. Preferably full-frontal nudity. Now chillax, I was a baby, and those diapers were just terrible.. You understand. Anywho, this subject subsequently caused me to remember that a certain collection of photos of myself exists, and that said collection contains proof of my constant childhood de-clothing. I promised an exclusive viewing of the photo's at a later date, and the conversation continued. The next day I dug my photo album out of the keepsake box in my closet and proceeded to flip through the pages, laughing a little, cringing a little, and mostly just longing to be back at the beach in San Diego where I grew up. Seeing the pictures again after such a long time was just the inspiration I needed to produce a short little clip of literature about the magical time I remember before Trigonometry homework, hormones, boy drama, and teenagerdom ensued. I lovingly call it, When I Was Five.
When I was five, I knew it all.
I had it going on.
Chased boys at recess,
Pasted some macaroni and beans.
Hiked my backpack way up.
The works.
Did it really matter
Where the money came from?
No. Not really.
Money was just code for trouble.
When I was five, I had few toys,
But things I made myself.
Cardboard boxes
Became my castle and kingdom.
But I was no princess.
You could find me swimming the moat.
Never stopped to save my life.
Who needs baths anyway?
No. Nobody really bathes anymore.
That’s just what your mother tells you.
When I was five my Daddy
Was the king of everything.
He could roller-skate
Like nobody’s business.
That’s just what Daddy did.
All he had to do was smile
And everything was all better.
What was there really to worry about?
No. Everything was just magical.
When I was five.
